Last week, I covered more kilometres in three days while driving a car than I did in the past three years. It is no secret that I hate driving a car. I derive no pleasure from it and the socalled free feeling, I do only have when I am in the passenger seat. Or in the back seat. For that, I don’t care. Shifting gears, accelerating, braking and keeping an eye on other traffic, makes me cramp up.

Admittedly, after yet another drive, it wasn’t that bad. Compared to the first ride last Tuesday from Utrecht, but I still did not enjoy it. Nor do I think that the euphoria of driving a car will ever happen. Some people don’t like water, or are horrified by insects. I don’t like getting behind the wheel to drive. Soit.

What I personally regret is that because of this personal crappy feeling, I almost forgot the reason why I got to spend a few days behind the wheel. Namely, my the eye of my main man was troubled, having undergone cataract surgery a year and a half ago. After a short visit to the ophthalmologist, it turned out that his lens was getting loose and he needed an urgent surgery on his eye. No argument here. I will take my seat behind the wheel.

The operation is done and it was successful (there was a small moment of panic when the eye pressure was too high, but after an extra check-up (extra car ride) it turned back to the normal pressure). The eye now has to heal and in a week and a half there will be a final check-up (last car ride). I’m already looking forward to the moment when everything was as the way it was.